


Vicissitude

by AnOmensLetters



Category: X-Men I guess
Genre: F/M, Original Female Character - Freeform, alternative universe, angsty, fan toad, this Enid is a different Enid from normal enid, uhhh how do tag, vague nsfw at some point probably, vaguely marvel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 00:28:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17415500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnOmensLetters/pseuds/AnOmensLetters
Summary: Vicissitude (n.)A change of circumstances or fortune, typically one that is unwelcome or unpleasant.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi so uhh, this is my first time doing a story. Toddrick Timerybee belongs to a friend.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes neighbors are noisy. Sometimes they remind you of someone. Sometime you just have to ignore them and move on. Sometimes, you need to learn more.

The loud music and cursing from upstairs was equally, if not more annoying than her date cancelling for the third time this week. She just wanted to sleep after the disappointment, and Daisy was getting jumpy. She couldn’t let her baby pup get all spooked by some dumb neighbor. She wasn’t in the mood to play passive, either.  
Going upstairs in nothing but the pajama shorts and cropped shirt she’d thrown on at the news of cancellation and her locket, she rapped on that goddamn door with her full temper escaping for a moment. 

Because Enid Hastings has self control, but sometimes it slipped. The door opened, and a newly recomposes Enid Hastings was surprised.

Surprising when someone answers so short. Surprising when it’s a guy who looks oddly familiar but she can’t spot from where. Surprising when he’s kind of cute in a nonconventional, I-wouldn’t-bring-you-home-to-meet-my-parents kind of way. Still, the blaring music is louder through an open door, and the sight a greasy munchkin with a sailor’s tongue wasn’t going to keep her head from throbbing.  
“Whaddya want?”  
“Hi, I live below you and I was wondering if you could… turn your music down? Like _way_ down. _Pretty please_?” She cooed, smiling the best she could manage with gritted teeth. She ignored the accent. Accents were cute, and it was different than her dad’s for sure, but her father was Scottish, so it was no surprise. She didn’t have time to be distracted by accents.  
He stood there a moment, assessing through squinted eyes, and then he spoke. She seemed hopeful, he must understand, right? She’d get to sleep tonight after all—  
“Absolutely not, when you’re lousy ass makes so much noise every damn day. Stop screaming names and moaning like a damn banshee and maybe, just _maybe_ , I won’t have to play my music so damn loud. Good night.”  
The door was slammed in her face, and she was without words. Had he really just said that? Had that really just happened? She felt her face heat up. She felt her blood begin to boil. She was pissed, and if she was pissed before, well that felt like pure tranquility.  
“Well _fuck you too!_ ” she all but screamed, kicking his door hard, swearing even more at her own stupid action. Slippers offered little protection for this kind of thing. This was far from over. This was absolutely unacceptable.  
But she didn’t do anything about it. She just went back downstairs. She covered her head with a pillow… and she went to sleep. The morning brought the blessing of silence from upstairs, and a promise of a new day. A better day. 

And what better way to start it than with a jog? 

—————————

Enid Hastings, after all, always went for a jog. Especially on days where she had had a rough night before. Especially on days where she doesn’t want to go back home and clean up her bedroom that she totally wrecked in a rage before she slept. Especially on days when she woke up with her room in further disarray because of using her mutant abilities unconsciously, while experiencing nightmares, only to be woken by Daisy.  
Oh wait. Those days were _everyday_. 

Always, Enid Hastings went on a jog, and smiled at the homeless who asked for change, giving them money and sometimes taking a break from her run to get them food and clothes. Sometimes she listened to music, but most often not, because in a world where you have to remain ever vigilant to stay safe, she knew better than to completely block out one of her senses with a stimuli.  
Often, Enid Hastings would get catcalled on her runs. She was catcalled, of course, because of her _wonderful_ personality! Not at all for her lovely red-brown hair. Not at all for her sparkling “exotic” eyes, or her plushy-but-not-too-plushy lips. Not her particular assets, toned by years of dance. None of those, because in what world would a man venture for a girl’s attention like _that_? 

Who was she kidding. At least she could probably stop them if she took off her locket… but then she’d be exchanging them for hate, wouldn’t she? She reminded herself of her worth, her value, and how people can change and grow when not surrounded by toxicity. She could grow back into the kind girl she had been, and put the cruel one back in the trash where she belonged. 

—————————

A certain tiny, fluffy ponytail caught her attention from the corner of her eye as she walked.

A slight smell that she knew from somewhere. Sweat, metal, oil, dirt… and something. Something that pulled her back to the old days. She just couldn’t place it. He looked small, but strong enough. The hair and the eyes— his eyelashes were so long! She wished hers looked that way!— something of handsome but also very much not. She was more into the tall, muscular, athletic kind of guy who maybe is rough around the edges but worth it in the end. That was her kind of guy. Not the kind her neighbor was. Still, something of him seemed so right, so familiar, so… nostalgic. She didn’t know why. She would need to find out.  
But today, she wouldn’t bother him. Today, she would go home. Today, she would learn.  
A buzz of a text. Something to make her smile. 

_[Ricky]: Want to grab some grub together tomorrow? (10:46 am)_

Yes. Today would be fine without much talking to small, grumpy neighbor men. Today would be fine all alone. Tomorrow would be with good company.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not even the short little grease monkey upstairs or a sudden disappointment can keep Enid fucking Hastings from trying to have a good day. After all, today was a special day... right?

Yes, Richard has cancelled on her three times that week. Yes, their last date before that was going to a sports bar where he could watch the game with his friends.  
But he was different, okay? She liked him. And he liked her! He liked her for her... right? I mean, he didn’t know her completely, but it was just one little, white lie right? Maybe? Okay, maybe not. Maybe it wasn’t a little, white lie if he didn’t know she was a mutant with physical attributes changed as a result.  
Still, he said they’d be together for like, forever! He said he loved her when they were in her bed a week ago. It was time to let him know, and she was sure he would accept her.

That was what she kept telling herself, at least. Last night he had cancelled, and today she would jog to make herself feel better. She could do anything she put her mind to. She was a real catch, so there was no reason to be worried that he’d leave... just like everyone else. Nope. No reason to worry at all. As she made her way out of her apartment and down the stairs, dressed up for the day and for their date, she just had to keep reminding herself.  
A sudden vibration of the Morse code for Ricky. She pulled her phone out from her bra and checked, only to feel a sinking sensation in her stomach that she was very familiar with.

_[💖💖Ricky💖💖]: Hey babe sorry gotta cancel, the guys wanna go on a road trip. We can have our date when I get back in a couple weeks right? (1:06 pm)_

No. No, it wasn’t okay. But what was she supposed to say? He was her guy. She was his girl. He liked her for her. She would just have to be patient. Pretend that she didn’t hurt from that.

_[Enid]: yeah, that’s ok! But I have big news when you get back :) (1:08 pm)_

Liar. She was such a liar. She was lonely, and angry, and desperate just to feel happy and maybe loved for just a little bit. She looked up to see him looking away. That guy from upstairs. The one with the loud music. The “cute but in a weird way” one. An idea strikes.  
A jealous one. A selfish one. One that doesn’t belong in the head of a good person. But Enid had become a bad person years ago, hadn’t she? When she let them change her back in school. Regrets didn’t matter, of course she was bad. So what did it matter?

“Excuse me! I think we got off on the wrong foot last night!” She called as she made her way across the lobby. He was getting his mail. She could get hers too. He wouldn’t look at her. He didn’t respond. “...I’m Enid. Enid Hastings. What’s your name?” She asked, continuing despite the cold shoulder.  
When he failed to answer she swiped a price of his mail, finally earning a response, and gave it back with a grin after she got the information she wanted.  
“Nice to meet you, Toddrick. Would you like to go to lunch with me? I’ll pay. We can go wherever you want.” It seemed she finally caught his attention, though it seemed begrudging. He gave her a firm once over.  
“...you’re not gonna leave me alone if I say no, are you?”

“Nope. So where do you want to go?” 

————————— 

When she had said wherever he wanted, she hadn’t been joking. He had thought to be a smartass and name a restaurant in London way above some dumb girl in his building’s pay grade. He didn’t expect her to actually take him. He expected her to get annoyed in the very least, and in the best case scenario? He expected her to leave him alone. Apparently, he was dead wrong. 

No, Todd was perhaps not wrong. Typically, this would all be very unrealistic. Typically, a person would have thought him to be joking or have gotten annoyed and moved on. A normal girl in his building wouldn’t be able to afford any of this. Not the restaurant, not the trans-Atlantic flight on a private jet for two, not any of this grandeur.  
So who the fuck was she? 

The name sounded familiar. The ponytail and the sparkling eyes reminded him of things, though he couldn’t place it. Something about it made a pit form in his stomach, and one of a different kind than from the adventure of a plane ride only to eat and then ride back. The food was good, and they got in despite appearances when she flashed some kind of credential. She’d made some minor conversation the whole time, looking pretty and sounding ditzy. Something of it seemed a bit fake.  
In the ride home, he watched her despite the rudeness of doing so. He’d never cared much if he was rude.  
One had to admit the girl was beautiful. She seemed beautiful, and somewhat short though he had no right to say such, as he was definitely shorter than her, even without those heels. He wonders if she dressed up for something else, or if she always dressed this way, or if she decided to dress this way knowing damn well that he’s end up dragged along on whatever little adventure she had planned. He would assume she knew what she was doing, and was having fun. 

She was probably pleased with herself, and yet instead of satisfaction he notes a troubled look just barely hidden in the veil of beauty, and the way her gaze lingers a little too long on her phone when she checks the time. The crossing and uncrossing and then crossing again of those long, bare legs. The bounce of her heel where the stiletto never quite punctured the air and landed on the ground again, only the ball. The fidget of a half drunk whiskey sour swirling in her hand or still as the other hand circles the rim. She seems powerful in that luxury seat, but the facade of confidence and strength and cheer could be stripped back to show a very vulnerable, very weak girl.  
Perhaps _that_ was the beautiful part. 

She didn’t attempt conversation, and neither did he. They just sat across from each other, him watching her as she watched the time pass by on their way back to New York, all the way until he was suddenly woke, unaware he’d drifted off to sleep. Suddenly, she was all smiles and laughs again. Hips swaying, skipping as she all but danced off the plane, holding his hand with a warmth he was unfamiliar with. Not the warmth that came with someone who wanted to shag, not the way a friend just grabs and yanks, not like a doting adult in his youth. No, this was different, and he couldn’t place it, but she wasn’t going to let go. 

Just his luck.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting close can be dangerous, especially if it’s with a ghost of your past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The friend date implied is referencing  City Escape by Todd's Owner 

A couple weeks turned out to be plenty of time, but not any time that mattered. In fact, Enid had completely forgotten that Richard was gone, or that he even existed at one point. She had been busy. Busy with a new friend, maybe. Could he be called a friend? Todd was far from a friend in many ways. They constantly bugged, called out, and made fun of each other. Still, on their little lunch dates and when she was able to drag him away to do something she found herself happy. She liked their little talks and his little scowls. She liked his honesty. She liked the familiarity. 

She liked him for all the wrong reasons. She thought this because she did look up some things to try and find out who he was. Why was she so certain she’d met him before? Because she had. In high school. Once upon a time she’d been a vague sort of nice to him, giving him lunches so he wouldn’t need to steal other people’s. Once upon a time she had watched him fight with her former teammates, the X-Men. Once upon a time, when so desperate to fit in with the normal people and to feel anything but like the freak she was, she had cut him down. She had been so cruel. She had no justification. They hadn’t pressured her, not directly. She had just been that desperate. So when the other girls had expressed distaste so did she. 

She had no right. She still had no right. He didn’t even know the truth of who she was— of _what_ she was. She had no plan to tell him the truth either. Not at first. She’d rather keep to her selfish reasons for a little while longer. All he’d ever known her as was a selfish, entitled ditz. She was okay with that. She could play that role, just like she played every role that someone set for her. It was what she was good at. 

————————— 

She’d just come back from a nice lunch with Todd, one where Todd had spotted a lie, she thinks. She pretended to hate spicy food, but her performance wasn’t very good. It was equally bad earlier in the week, when they had been drinking together and she had pretended like she hated any decent liquors. She pretended to have never had one of her favorite drinks. She didn’t know why. Maybe it was just because that seemed to be what he seemed to think of her. She played those roles for fear of her being hated. She’d been awful about being hated.  
They were in his apartment, him working on some project while she looked among his shelves. She found something. A picture shoved inside the cover of a book. The picture was of plenty of faces she could recall.  
Lance, with his shaggy hair and rock n roll attitude. She remembered his Jeep, and how hard he worked, and how angry he’d been. She remembered him caring for the others greatly.  
Pietro, with his glam and ego. He could’ve ruled the world if he wanted to, but all he wanted to do, it seemed, was make sure not to be a disappointment. Could anyone blame him? Still, he was true to himself, wasn’t he? That already made him better than her.  
Fred. Oh, Fred. He had it rough. He did everything he could to be his best self but years of trauma held him back and people didn’t want to see past the issues to the golden heart he had. Most of the time.  
Mortimer. Mortimer was a strange case. He was equipped very similarly to Todd, but he was more like her. Physically afflicted with the X-Gene. He had been a stranger initially, but with a couple of dimension hopping kids, including one who made her day for years back then, he’d ended up there. It was strange, but not in a bad way. He was nice, most of the time.  
Wanda, Pietro’s beautiful gothic sister. She remembered Wanda plenty. She remember plenty of times where she had even wished she could be her. Wanda was strong and intense and cool. She was dark, but she had good reason. She was powerful, and people were drawn inexplicably to her, despite their fear.  
Morrigan. The little ice princess. Even in that photo you could see the sadness in her eyes, and the longing she seemed to be made up of. She wasn’t looking at the camera. She was looking at a certain mutant. One who she seemed to long for most of all.  
And then he was there. Squatted down in the middle. Yes, she remembered him. He was different back then. Too thin, too weak, too angry. Too helpless. 

She looked behind her to where he sat, muttering something under his breath as he fiddled with some tools and some scraps. She didn’t get it. He’s changed a lot. She wondered if he knew the regret she carried deep in her bones for him. 

“What’re you staring for now?” He huffed without turning to look at her. She said nothing for a moment.  
“...I used to know you.” She replied. Soft voice was all she had. She couldn’t muster much more, and the words seemed to want to close in her throat.  
“...So?”  
“You…” _You used to to disgust me,_ she wanted to say, _but not for the reason you’d think._  
“... nothing.”  
_You made me disgusted with myself..._  
“Nevermind.”  
_because I would be so cruel and fake to someone who did nothing wrong…_  
“Just thought it was interesting.”  
_You should hate me. I’m sorry._

He looked over his shoulder to her. “You talk too much. Come sit down.”


End file.
